


White Out

by TheTrickyOwl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrickyOwl/pseuds/TheTrickyOwl
Summary: When a deadly snowstorm rips across the Russian wilderness and separates the Blackwatch team, Jesse McCree and Commander Gabriel Reyes seek out shelter from the bitter cold.





	White Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tordarroch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tordarroch/gifts).



Reyes’ form stood out amidst the snowfall like an ink stain on ivory silk, the back of his hoodie clutched weakly in the frostbitten grip of Jesse McCree. Harsh wind cut across the exposed flesh of Jesse’s face with the sharp bite of a knife’s edge, weighing down the sodden material of his soaked uniform until it clung uncomfortably to his stiffening limbs. It hurt to move, his every muscle shrieking with protest as he trudged through the knee-deep snow, following the two narrow footpaths his Commander had made ahead of him. He wanted nothing more than to ask him to stop, to rest, but knew that if he ceased moving for only a moment, the cold would overtake them both. His lungs burned with each shallow inhale.

Jesse McCree did not cope well in winter, let alone a damn Russian one.

In all directions, he knew nothing but white. The storm had torn through the mountainside with little warning, sending sheets of blinding snow tumbling from the filthy grey skies, separating them from the rest of the Blackwatch squadron that had joined them on assignment. The comms had lost signal in a matter of moments, leaving them deaf and blind and in desperate need of shelter. Wind howled mournfully, sounding more like a wounded animal as it sliced over the barren landscape. Jesse’s lashes fluttered, coated in a layer of flurries he tried desperately to blink away. Ice had begun to build on the ends of his damp hair and along the whiskers of his bearded jaw. 

“Not much further,” Reyes shouted back at him. 

Jesse’s only response was the chattering of his own teeth while he mustered enough strength to cling tighter to his Commander, fearful of losing him as quickly as they’d lost the path to the dropship. Just ahead, he could make out the faint shape of what he could only assume was a small outpost, long abandoned since the end of the Omnic Crisis. The structure, barely holding itself together, creaked and groaned as they hastily approached. The keypad by the door lay unresponsive after years of neglect, its retinal scanner and security lock nothing more than a handful of frayed wires billowing in the icy gusts. Jesse shivered, hands tucked inside his armpits, watching as Reyes yanked open the heavy steel doors with little effort. 

The inside of the outpost offered little reprieve from the cold, yet Jesse still groaned in relief as his body was no longer assaulted by the battering Russian winds. Their bootfalls echoed hollowly against the aged floorboards as they pushed further inside. Reyes was already dusting the layers of snow from his shoulders. Jesse wasn’t sure if he had the strength to do the same. His arms hung stiffly at his sides, and his skin began to feel white hot beneath the surface. 

“We should be safe in here,” Reyes murmured as he battered ice from his mustache. 

“Mmfff… mmc-c-can’t… f-fff….” Jesse struggled to speak, words trapped somewhere behind his chattering teeth and stiffening jaw.

Reyes stepped in close, broad form blotting out the slat of light that bled through where the door hadn’t been able to close all the way. Jesse felt both of his hands being cupped by a gentle grip, before Reyes drew them close and began exhaling puffs of hot air against his stiff fingers. Every wash of warmth made Jesse’s heart kick up in his chest. Reyes’ beard tickled across his wind-burned skin.

“H-How are y-you… you… nnn-n-not…” Jesse struggled to speak as his Commander began rubbing circles into his palms, forcing the circulation to return. “…f-frozen…?”

Reyes only smirked, glancing up at him from beneath dark lashes. “My body temperature doesn’t plummet as quickly as yours does. SEP benefits.”

Right. As if the heat radiating from Reyes’ chest hadn’t been indication enough.

Jesse could only grunt, sniffling back the moisture building inside his nose. It felt as though his insides had begun to thaw, dripping in rivulets from his reddened nostrils and eyes. He must’ve looked like a damn mess. The ice that had built on the ends of his hair began to dribble down his neck, like someone was running a cold finger down the length of his spine, making him shudder. 

“You need to get your clothes off.”

His focus snapped back to Reyes, who’d spoken those words with the causality of reading off a list of groceries. “B-Beg… ppp… pardon?”

“Your uniform is soaking wet and frozen stiff,” his Commander spoke as he continued to massage heat back into Jesse’s hands. “Sooner you get them off the warmer you’ll get. I should have a spare change of clothes with me. Hold on.”

When Reyes released his hands and drew away to sling off his supply bag, Jesse felt choked by the longing he felt to return to his warmth. To tuck himself close and soak in the heat from his Commander’s dark skin, savouring it, sipping at it the way he’d sip from a glass of bourbon. A stupid thought. Jesse dropped his eyes and began to change right then and there, stiff limbs protesting against the movement. His trembling fingers stumbled over the clasps and buckles of his uniform. Jesse grit his teeth, peeling away the layers of frozen fabric and hardened leather, surprised by the sense of relief he felt once his skin became exposed to the outpost’s chill air. 

Reyes held out an armful of dry, folded fabric—an old pair of sweatpants and a spare hoodie not unlike the one his Commander currently sported—and Jesse took them gratefully, ignoring the soft flip his stomach made when he caught Reyes’ eyes briefly flitting down his bare torso. Outside, the heavy wind picked up, and the outpost quivered and sighed beneath its assault. Jesse dressed quickly while Reyes scouted the room, casting the blue light from his comm screen over the darkened corners. They were surrounded by crumbling circuit boards and holovid projectors. Weapons caches lay barren at every corner, while an empty wood burning stove sat cold against the far wall with no logs in sight to fill it. Dust particles danced in the glow of the light Reyes threw over three bunks long abandoned, their mattresses overturned and their blankets—to Jesse’s grave disappointment—nowhere to be seen. Whomever had last been here had raided the place of its essentials, leaving nothing but a hollowed husk left to rot under the elements. 

“Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while,” Reyes said with disdain, his breath visible in the icy air. “At least until the storm clears up enough to regain comm signal.”

“Think the o-others are alr-r-right?” Jesse asked as he stuffed both arms into the warm hoodie sleeves, doing his best to ignore the fact that the fabric carried Reyes’ scent on it—something not unlike woodsmoke from a forest bonfire just dying out. That’s the only way Jesse could describe it.

Reyes grunted. “They’ve sought out shelter to wait out the blizzard just like we have.”

“H-How’d you know?”

“Because I don’t hire idiots.”

Jesse hid his grin as they moved together to the furthest corner of the room, away from the creaking door and precarious side wall that looked close to crumbling as the snow battered incessantly against it. He watched, curiously, as Reyes approached the bunks and began to break off pieces of the wooden bedframes, before Jesse realized his intentions.

“Y’ever built a fire before?” He asked, tucking his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie.

Reyes paused his work to level Jesse with a look. “Of course I have.”

“I dunno, y’just don’t s-seem like the outdoorsy type to me, boss.” Jesse smirked before staggering back with a soft grunt as Reyes shoved an armful of wood into his hands. 

“Be useful and hold these.”

“You got kindlin’? Matches? How’re ya gonna get this started? Wood s-seems awful damp from the cold.” Jesse said while Reyes continued to pile bedframe into his outstretched arms. 

“One more comment and you get to spend the night outside.”

Jesse stopped his teasing, though his smirk never wavered. Once enough had been gathered, they huddled around the old stove, which creaked beneath layers of soot and rust as Jesse arranged the pieces inside one by one. Reaching back into his bag, Reyes plucked out a small book and began tearing out pages. Dry, old paper would serve as decent enough kindling in the absence of pine needles and shrubbery, and Jesse commended the way Reyes tossed the scrunched pages into the little nook that had been created beneath the tent of wood. 

“Okay, so you actually do know what yer doin’.” Jesse muttered, which earned him a gentle shove. “What’s with the book?”

“Poetry.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

Reyes snorted and drew out a pack of cigarettes, which Jesse then remembered also meant he had a lighter. His mouth practically watered, hungry for the crackling warmth of a flame. He rocked impatiently back and forth on his heels.

“It was just a notebook,” his Commander explained with a dismissive shrug, which only heightened Jesse’s curiosity. “I like writing my thoughts down. Appointment times. Little things I’d most likely forget given my schedule.”

Jesse licked at his dry lips. “Anythin’ about me in there?”

“If there was,” Reyes smiled pleasantly and held the lighter’s flame against one of the pages, setting it alight. “Now, you’ll never know.”

“You bastard.”

The fire wasn’t anything special, and the wood had taken a touch longer than Jesse liked to really catch flame, but it was warm and it was enough. Shoulder to shoulder they sat nestled on the floor before the stove, Jesse gnawing on a piece of jerky Reyes had kept in his bag, watching his Commander tap various icons on the screen of his comm in an attempt to grasp onto a signal. They weren’t having much luck if the crease that had formed between Reyes’ dark brows was any indication. 

Sighing, soothed by the heat and the howling rush of winter winds surrounding them, Jesse drew the hood up over his hair and felt his head ease itself onto the cradle of Reyes’ shoulder. He expected his Commander to stiffen beneath the contact, maybe shove him off, but instead he just sat there and allowed it to happen. Jesse almost thought he even felt Reyes relax, muscles easing.

Jesse was sure the backs of his ribs were bruised with how hard his heart was beating.

“Warm?” He heard Reyes ask.

“Mhm,” Jesse nodded, feet wiggling in his boots as he stretched his legs toward the fire. “I can feel my toes again. Among other things.”

Reyes’ chuckle was soft and low, the gentle shaking of his shoulders making Jesse smile to himself.

“Try to rest, McCree,” Reyes murmured. “I’ll wake you when the signal returns.”

“M’not tired.” Jesse mumbled as a yawn betrayed him. The heat pouring off his Commander’s body was almost too much. His limbs had gone limp, muscles melting right into the other man.

“Just sleep. I’ll watch the fire.” Reyes said.

“Sure ye can handle that?” Jesse teased.

“I will take my hoodie back and leave you in a snowbank.”

Jesse snickered, hands folding together within his front pocket while the fire cast heat across his closing eyes. The sorrowful howls of the dying storm sounded almost distant, now, and for a split moment before exhaustion finally overtook him, Jesse thought he felt Reyes lay his cheek against the side of his head.


End file.
